


The Lucky Hobbit

by BelovedSoulless



Series: Smaugbo Domestic Tales [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:40:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1539689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelovedSoulless/pseuds/BelovedSoulless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little domestic fluff piece based of the Grimm's tale "The Unlucky Warrior".</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lucky Hobbit

         Bilbo and Frodo sat in front of the burning hearth in the living room one winter evening.  Cold fingers clutched mugs of steaming tea.  Thick snowflakes danced in the harsh winds outside the rounded window.

“Uncle, tell me a story.”  Frodo spoke, breaking the pleasant silence.

“Alright, my boy, what story do you want to hear?”  Bilbo slowly brought his mug of tea to his lips, his eyes twinkling with mirth as they always did when he started to tell one of his tales.

“A new one, one that I haven’t heard before.”

“I have as many stories as there are blades of grass in the entire Shire, and I’m sure you’ve heard almost everyone.”

“But there must be one more, right?”

“Aye, I think I might have one more.  One of a wizard and a dragon.”  He spoke in hushed tones, peering over his shoulder as if expecting Gandalf to pop out from behind the cushions.  

“Let’s hear it then!” Frodo exclaimed, tucking his feet underneath him himself like he would settling in to read a good book.  Bilbo took another sip of his tea and cleared hi throat.

“This tale begins midday, and all I had on me was a bow and three arrows.”

 

       On and on Bilbo had walked until he reached the banks of a large, bluer than blue, lake.  The only way across the lake was a narrow old bridge.  Cautiously the Hobbit made his way across the bridge, but even before he made it half way across he came across a surprising sight.  An enormous red snake was blocking his path.  The snake lay, bathing in the sun, stretched across the width of the bride twice over.

       Bilbo heaved a great sigh and thought to himself “This snake isn’t going to stop me.” And carefully he tiptoed over the sleeping snake, for Hobbits were notoriously light on their feet the snake did not awaken.  Bilbo had only made it ten feet away from the snake when he heard a voice behind him.

“Hey, you there!”

Bilbo turned to face the voice.  In the snakes place stood a well dress man, he smiled and waved the Hobbit closer.

“You’re a brave one!  You weren’t afraid of the snake at all.”

Bilbo nodded his head, still skeptical of the human man.

“You see, I’m looking for someone to help me, and so when I see someone coming I turn into a snake.  So far you are the only one that has the courage to step over it.”

“Courage is a funny word for it.”  Bilbo muttered to himself.

“What is your name, traveler?”

“Bilbo Baggins, from Bag End. “He replied “And who are you?” he licked his lips nervously, as the man pointed at the lake.

“I am the King of that realm.”

“What!” Bilbo exclaimed “Your realm is a lake?”

The King smiled.

“Yes, but under the water lies a great city that is protected by crystal.  My people live there happily, away from others and free to carry out their peaceful lives.  Or they did, at least, until the dragon arrived.”

“The dragon?” asked Bilbo

“Yes” the king replied, the smile fading from his face “Every second night he dives off the bridge into the water, enters through the crystal, and creates nothing but havoc amongst my subjects.  I’m afraid it won’t be much longer until he eats us all.  And that’s why I’m looking for a brave soul to help us.”

Beside himself Bilbo replied. “You want me to fight the dragon?”

“Yes!”

“I think you have ‘ought to know, sire, that I am a thief, not a warrior.”

“I never believe what I hear, only what I see.” The King held out his hand to the Hobbit “Come with me.”  He grasped Bilbo’s upper arm, and together they jumped into the lake.  The waters opened up before their feet could touch the water.  They passed through the crystal that contained the city.

In the city the king treated Bilbo to a feast until the sun set.  The setting sun created a rainbow of colours in the crystal above their heads.

“Soon now you will hear a terrible noise.  That will be the dragon.  You will have to face the dragon up above.”

“Don’t worry; I am not afraid, for I am Took.  I have my bow and three arrows.”

“Only three?! You will need one hundred at least!” The king looked frantic.

“Not to worry, they’re tipped with poison.  And if that is not enough, I won’t have time to fire a single one more.” The wine from the feast taking its effect on the poor hobbit.  Just then a horrendous noise rose up from the city mixed with the screams of the people.

“Dragon? Dragon!”  Bilbo shouted, picking up his weapon and made his way back to the bridge.

The dragon swooped down advancing on the city just as he made it to the surface.  Holding his ground, Bilbo shot two arrows as the dragon ascended.  Both arrows stuck right in the dragon’s heart, but it still didn’t stop.  The dragon turned sharply barreling towards the Hobbit.  Suddenly Bilbo remembered hearing an old tale about using saliva to poison a dragon.  Bilbo licked his fingers and wet the tip of the last arrow, he fired the arrow and it hit the dragon in the fleshy area just under his wing.  The dragon did not stop its advance.

“This is the end.”  Bilbo thought to himself, but before the dragon could reach Bilbo, the dragon shuddered and crashed into the lake, dead.

 

Frodo laughed, setting his empty mug aside.

“And then the citizens of the lake realm showered me with gifts and praise.”  Bilbo finished his story with a bow, reliving the praise he had before.

“Out of all the utterly ridiculous stories your Uncle has told you over the years, this is positively the stupidest.”  Smaug stuttered on the last word, wiping his red and dripping nose.  He stood leaning heavily in the wall, he wore three thick shirts, two pairs of pants, all the socks in all of bag end, and draped in the thickest blanket made of sheep’s wool.

“Uncle!  You’ve finally made it out of bed.” Frodo exclaimed, smiling at Smaug.  “And how is it any less ridiculous then trolls turning to stone in the sun?”

“It’s not plausible to begin with.” Smaug flopped onto the sofa beside Bilbo, taking the last mouthful of tea from Bilbo’s mug.

“All of my stories are true.” Bilbo puffed out his chest, glaring at Smaug and Frodo.  Smaug only rolled his eyes, cocooning himself in his blanket.

“I’ll prove it.”  Bilbo mouthed to Frodo, he stuck his pinky finger in his mouth.  He made sure his finger was wet before sticking it Smaug’s ear.  Smaug immediately began to writhe and wiggle, letting out many emasculate sounds as he tried to dislodge the wet finger form his ear.  He rolled to the ground panting as Frodo and Bilbo howled with laughter.

“Wives tales as imbecilic as the white death that falls outside.” Smaug roared from the floor, now hopelessly tangled in his blanket.  Bilbo wiped tears of laughter from his eyes.

“Frodo, my boy, please fetch your Uncle a mug of tea while I untangle him before we have one less blanket in the house.”

 

 


End file.
